


The Fearful Unknown

by artlessICTOAN



Category: Naruto
Genre: Agender Sai, Amputee Naruto, Amputee Sasuke, Depression, Developing Friendships, F/F, F/M, Gaara teaches Sauce how to move forwards, Gen, Introspective Sasuke, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-War, Potentially Dark Imagery, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, Some Swearing, and the kids want to fix it, first steps to friendship, ish, pairings are there but not the main focus, reintegrating into society, the ninja world is terrifying, the rookies learning to cope
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-25
Updated: 2017-11-24
Packaged: 2018-09-02 04:22:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8651080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artlessICTOAN/pseuds/artlessICTOAN
Summary: The war has been won, but Sasuke has little to celebrate. While wandering the long-deserted battlefield trying to find his new path forwards, he happens across the one person who might understand him best.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ~~This idea woke me up at fuckin 5am apropos of n o t h I n g~~ As much as I like to rag on Sauce I don’t actually hate the guy, it’s just the writing that happens around him that pisses me off, like how Nart’s other friendships are forgotten/ignored for the sake of his rivalry, how determined Kishi was to make him the Big Endgame Boss Battle when it probably would’ve been more emotionally engaging had he turned earlier in the story and we’d gotten to see him actually being friends with T7 and the other rookies, eVERYTHING involving Sakura…
> 
> But yeah, I think there was a real missed opportunity with these two cause they’re way more similar to each other than Nart and Sauce or even Nart and Gaara (seriously, both betrayed at a young age by a family member that they adored, both quiet, introverted types, both genius level talents who were consumed by their own hate for a long time, both eventually discover that the one who betrayed them didn’t actually hate them and loved them all along… like, I’m not pulling this from nothing here) ngl I lowkey ship these two (under Very specific circumstances, I can’t really see them working in canon, if only because I hc Sauce as the most aggressively aroace person to ever exist) but this is mostly about their potential friendship.  
> My first time writing Sauce and fuck he’s a difficult brat to work with, honestly I don’t know how this guy thinks at all, so this is probably more an interpretation of his character than based 100% on canon, but it was an interesting experiment so!  
> Hope y’all enjoy!

\---

He couldn’t breathe.

The great battle had been over hours ago, but the air was still filled with choking dust, from endless explosions, from earth-shaking jutsu, from every single footstep that had pounded against dry sand, cracking mud and crumbling rock. And, despite all his years of training, he could never have prepared himself for the _smell_ ; dust, sweat, ash, blood, the bitter trace of long-since dissipated poison gas and the sour taste of stale piss.

All of his years of training and preparation for such battles… and he was still woefully unprepared for the reality.

And he had barely even been here, the others – _everyone_ else – had been living this reality for months, they had become so accustomed to the stench of war that they didn’t even notice it anymore. From shy, shrinking violet Hinata, to lazy, good-for-nothing Shikamaru, from arrogant Kiba, to self-centred Ino, from smart, but weak, Sakura, to that pathetic _idiot_ he was only just starting to accept might be his friend. He had never realised how much stronger than him they all were.

How else could they have lived through all this, survived through all this, without such strength?

They were all celebrating now, throwing a party while the smell of burning corpses was still heavy in the air – even two days after the mass funeral held to honour the poor, dead, nameless souls whom most had never even known.

Everyone mourning friends, family, lovers, leaning on complete strangers for comfort, for solidarity in shared pain.

But he hadn’t been there. He had no one to mourn.

His presence would be little more than an insult, to people he never knew, never cared about; this war had cost so much, but he couldn’t feel anything more than indifference. He wondered if that made him worse than Madara.

Even now, when the time for sorrow had passed, soldiers of every nation had come together to instead celebrate their victory, to release all the fear and tension that they must’ve been carrying since before the battle even started.

He hadn’t been there either. He had nothing to celebrate.

Naruto had, of course, tried to talk him into it, but he knew that the only thing his presence would bring to the party would be a sense of discomfort and distrust, even those he had grown up with were varying degrees of awkward around him and suspicious of his presence, why would strangers from other nations see him as anything other than the S-ranked criminal he was?

So, he had convinced his first – only – friend that he should go without him and leave him in peace. Naruto had accepted it surprisingly easily and run off to meet Sakura.

He didn’t know if he should be hurt by that or not. For all that the blond had stayed exactly as he had been as a child, something about him had definitely changed, matured; he was still the stubborn little brat who’d persistently chased after him for three years, but there was an undefinable distance between them, so even now that he’d gotten his way, finally dragged Sasuke kicking and screaming back into the light, he didn’t follow him around like a lost puppy as he’d expected and wasn’t keeping him constantly in sight so he couldn’t run away again, instead he was spending his time with the other rookies, with his other _friends_.

He wanted to scream, he wanted to cry, he wanted to punch him again, but, most of all, he wanted to be alone, where no one would see him so weak and confused and pathetic.

As he drifted across the empty battlefield, he noticed the air starting to clear; he could now see ten feet ahead, rather than two, the tiny pinpricks of light in the sky were actually starting to bring light to the world below and he could now breath in something other than ash and dust. Had he really wandered so far from the camp?

No, he could still hear the distant revelry, he hadn’t gone that far, so why…

Oh.

He came to an abrupt halt, just inside the distinct circle of air that was perfectly clear and calm, letting the moonlight filter down – and somehow it still made him uncomfortable, even now that it was once again little more than a bright, white orb in the night sky – with a lone figure sitting directly in the middle of it. He didn’t need to see his face to know who it was, if the distinctive hair wasn’t enough to clue him in, the gourd he was leaning against was. Gaara almost didn’t appear to have noticed him, his back was turned and his stance suggested that he was in deep meditation, but the miniscule tensing of his shoulders quickly let him know that he’d been sensed.

Neither one spoke for a long moment, he noted the circle they were in was gradually expanding and contracting, perfectly in sync with Gaara’s breathing, maybe this was some kind of control exercise.

Most of him wanted to leave, of all the people he wanted to interact with right now, this man was not one of them and he was sure the feeling would be mutual, but, at the same time… he’d always felt a strange, dark connection with him, more than Naruto, more than Kakashi, _Gaara_ had always seen the darkest parts of his being and accepted them, encouraged them even, as long ago as that had been.

He took an infuriatingly nervous step forwards, then – when the Kazekage made no move more threatening than releasing the deep breath he’d taken – he took another, more confident.

Gaara only opened his eyes to look at him when he finally dropped to the ground beside him and mimicked his meditation posture, even then it was only from the corner of his eye, his profile as unreadable as ever, in that way Sasuke still remembered from their youth; apparently some things about him never changed.

But, other things had. He’d not been living under a rock these past few years, Orochimaru’s spy network was effective, if nothing else. He’d immediately heard when Gaara had become Kazekage, part of him was shocked – he couldn’t reconcile the image of the Third, old, wise and kindly, with his sharp memories of the cold, wild, bloodthirsty boy who’d once bested him – but it made a certain kind of sense, the position of Kage was after all ultimately one of power and Gaara was undeniably that.

And then the other stories of him had started coming; the young, progressive leader who ruled his council with an iron fist, but his subjects with a kind heart, the man who was dragging his failing country back into relevance, who had the love of his people, who’d sacrificed himself for them.

He’d not believed that for a very long time. In fact, it was only in the last week, when Naruto was attempting to catch him up on _everything_ that he’d missed, that he found out that, not only was it true, but he’d died for them. The terrifying, violent kid who’d boasted of his ability to ‘love only himself’, who’d actively encouraged him to do the same, had changed so drastically that he willingly gave up his life to protect people who’d never given him anything but hate.

Gaara certainly wasn’t the only one to change – he thought of Shikamaru’s suspicious, keen eyes, of Chouji’s quiet strength, of Ino’s determination to help others in the face of her father’s death, of Kiba’s private threats should he ever hurt his friends again, of Hinata’s cool composure, of Shino’s silent compassion, of Lee’s tempered positivity, even after everything that had happened, of Tenten’s unexpected leadership… of Sakura’s soothing touch and hard gaze, of Naruto’s matured outlook and intense resolve to change the world for the better – but even so, Gaara had to have changed more than anyone.

To think that they had started in such similar places, why was it that they ended up sitting here now as such different people? The former killer, turned war hero and the former hope of his village, returning as a wanted criminal. In another time would their places have switched? Or, was it simply their true natures overcoming nurture?

The silence was probably awkward, but surprisingly comfortable, if only because neither of them had ever been ones for needless talking, however the looming shroud of things that _needed_ to be said was threatening to suffocate him and clearly Gaara wasn’t going to start this conversation.

“I’m surprised that I haven’t been arrested yet. Or executed.” It was, perhaps, not the smoothest opener, but he doubted that his companion would care about that.

He didn’t speak immediately, but when he did, it was with a voice that suggested exhaustion. “They are still discussing your fate, most of the Lords and Kage would like to have your head, but Tsunade-sama has been fighting viciously for your safety-” he made a huffing noise that might’ve been a chuckle from anyone else, “-I do not believe the others will last long against her.”

That was unsurprising, while she had made her personal distaste for him abundantly clear, she cared too much about Naruto to let his friend be taken away when he’d only just got him back. “And, what about you?”

Gaara made a sharp inhale, the stark ring of clear air suddenly contracting a few inches. Apparently he wasn’t quite as amiable as he had appeared on the outside. “You’ve hurt Naruto deeply, more than I think you realise. I will never be able to forget that, though one day I might forgive, however… I do understand. Everyone deserves a chance, to believe otherwise would be hypocritical.”

“Hn.” He felt there was something he should say in response to that, a conformation that he was going to take that chance maybe; but honestly, he didn’t see the point, no one other than Naruto had believed him thus far and he had no desire to prove himself.

They sat in silent meditation for a while longer, Gaara still practising his control by pushing back the granules drifting on the breeze and Sasuke taking a welcome opportunity to breath the clear air.

Eventually though, the silence was broken.

“Your eyes, they have changed,” his voice was soft, but something about it demanded upmost attention, he wondered if that was a side effect of being a Kage, or if it had always been there, “I am, glad, to see it.”

“Yeah, well… I guess I no longer have any desire to live in the darkness.”

Eyes that shone silver in this light glanced over at him, before they closed again. “No, there is always a desire. Darkness is comfort, it is familiarity, it is safety, even when you discover how much lighter you feel by day, night always comes and your shadow will always weigh you down. But, eventually, the _need_ for darkness will lessen.”

“Is that really any way to live? Always seeking the light, knowing that you’ll be dragged down by your own nature, no matter how much you fight…”

His eyes opened again and this time he actually turned his head to look directly at him, that gesture alone imprinted the importance of this moment. “It is the _only_ way to live, anything else is not living, you know that as well as I. You fight, or you are consumed. But, you need not worry, you have friends – many more than I ever did – who will hold you up, who will help you carry that weight. They will be both your salvation and your crutch, at least until you find a new purpose to drive you forward.”

Sasuke quickly clamped down on the tremble that was threatening to break his voice and drew up the comfortable mask of indifference that – for the first time in a long time – was threatening to fall, “So that’s it? Just lean on your friends and everything will be fine?” he said, his attempts to hide his turbulent emotions just made him sound bitter, but that was ok, anything as long as he didn’t look _weak_ -

“When it is the ones you love who have caused you the most pain, it is difficult to learn how to trust again.”

Again, _again_ he had somehow seen right through all the bullshit and cut a wound deeper than any he’d ever gotten in battle, he’d seen the fears he tried to keep hidden, even from himself and spoke them so plainly that he could no longer deny the fact that he was weak, useless, pathetic!

He knew his mask had crumbled to pieces, his body might not be visibly disturbed, but he felt like he was trebling like a leaf in a gale, his insides twisting and lurching and when he spoke, his voice was even shakier, “Is it even possible?”

Gaara took a distressingly long time to answer, every second grinding away at his patience and nerves.

“Yes, eventually, but it takes a lot of time and hard work… from both parties. Have you told him your feelings?”

“What do _you_ think?”

“Then, you should tell him. He will understand and he will do everything in his power to make this transition as comfortable as possible for you,” he said, in his deep, quiet, surprisingly soothing, tone. With one last deep breath, he pushed himself gracefully to his feet and idly brushed the dust off his clothes. “The process can only start when you decide to take those first steps into the fearful unknown, however… I don’t think you need to worry. After all, you’ve already made them.” He turned to walk back to the camp, sending once last glance over his shoulder, before disappearing into the haze.

Sasuke stayed in the circle of calm a little while longer, thinking over the conversation and the implications of it, the air around him stayed clear and breathable long after Gaara had left.

Eventually, he stood up, and walked to the hard line between the cool night and where the atmosphere filled with dust and sand and ash.

He stepped forwards, into the fearful unknown.

\---


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I wasn't originally going to continue this oneshot, but I got a really lovely request to do just that, so here we are! This is probably a bit rough since it's been ages since the first chap and I'm not sure I'm quiiiite in the same headspace, but now that the really introspective, talky stuff is out of the way the next chaps should go much smoother (though not any less introspective and talky)!
> 
> The last scene might look a little like it's hinting towards narusasu, but that wasn't intentional on my part; though if you wanna read it that way then by all means just be aware that it won't really lead to anything, since this'll end up being a sasugaa fic, though prepare yourselves for the slowest of burns bc this is mostly about sauce's relationships with his friends and konoha and all that good stuff
> 
> tbh I completely forgot that sauce gets the rinnegan, I tend to avoid nart ending stuff bc it inevitably makes me wanna spew venom and bile directly into kishi's face, so for the sake of this au let's just pretend that nart and sauce aren't so ridiculously overpowered and they're just very, very strong ninja who happened to help save the world, since I can't be bothered to try and find out Every new ability they got in the last 30 chaps and how it might affect their lives (they still blew each other's arms off though)
> 
> Anyways, feedback would be suuuper welcome on this and I hope you enjoy!

\---

Returning to Konoha was both a relief and a weight that rested heavy in his stomach.

It hadn’t been all that long since his last visit – back when he came seeking answers about Itachi, the Uchiha, the village and purpose of shinobi themselves – but with all that had happened in that short time, he felt like an entirely different person, looking upon those great red gates that filled him with an uncomfortable nostalgia, though he doubted they would ever _really_ feel like the original ones destroyed in the Akatsuki attack.

He wasn’t sure what kind of person he’d changed into, but he was certain a change had occurred, none the less.

Kakashi slowly walked up next to him, a hand hovering uncertainly over his shoulder before dropping back to his side. “Well then… Welcome home,” he said, with his usual fake nonchalance, “before we enter the village, there is one thing we need to do,” his sensei pulled a strip of cloth from his pocket and held it up to him, intricate seal patterns already drawn onto it; he looked only a little apologetic. “You understand.”

And he did understand. He’d spent the better part of three years as a rouge-ninja, he knew that eventually he’d have to face some kind of repercussions for that… even if they were slower to come than he’d expected.

\---

The fresh, mild Konoha air was a small comfort, even if the room he currently sat in was anything but. Sasuke wasn’t sure how long it had been, or how much longer it would be; there was a very real possibility that no one was coming for him and this was to be his lot in life for the rest of his days.

But, he didn’t really think he’d mind that. He’d known right from the beginning, from the second that abandoning the only home he’d ever known had been presented as an option, that he could never return to life as normal. He was still confident that it was all worth it though, trailing after a manipulative snake in the hopes of finding power and revenge, letting himself be guided by man after man who sought to use him to further their own goals, willingly throwing himself into the destruction of his former home, even if that meant losing the few people left who genuinely cared about him – and that he had cared for himself, though he’d never let himself see that until his first friend finally ripped away the shadows surrounding him-

There was a faint ‘click’, the first sound he’d heard in hours. He instinctually turned his head, but his vision was still pure black – occasionally disturbed by kaleidoscopic patches of colour – the sealing cloth keeping his dangerous eyes hidden.

“I swear the new Hokage is even less responsible than the last one…” The voice was one he hadn’t heard for a very long time, but he recognised it regardless. Ibiki Morino. Clearly Konoha wasn’t messing around anymore. “So, you’ve finally come back,” the man said, closer and more clearly than before, Sasuke could hear the shuffling of cloth and a gentle creak as a chair was settled into.

“Hn.”

Ibiki sighed heavily. “Well I wish you had waited a few more months to do it. All this chaos with the war and new leadership and now we have to deal with this mess too, I hope you realise how much sleep I’ve already missed because of you.”

He didn’t say anything, wasn’t really sure what he _could_ say to that; loss of sleep was pretty low on the list of problems he’d made for other people.

“No, I suppose not,” he said, apparently not bothered that he was essentially just talking to himself now, “so, let’s get to business, I’m sure you’re just as thrilled to be here as I am. Sasuke Uchiha, I am here today to evaluate your state of mind and determine if your claims of repentance are sincere and whether you will be a threat to our village in the future.”

“And if you decide that I am?” he asked, by the time the words were out of his mouth, he didn’t care how they might be taken.

There was a small stretch of silence, before Ibiki spoke again, “That’s not my decision – if it were up to me you wouldn’t be within ten miles of the village – I will simply make my report to the council and they will make up their minds own minds on the matter and we can all move on with our lives; or not, as the case may be.”

He nodded, he’d not really expected to hear anything else.

“Well then, now that you’re clear on where we stand, let’s start with your reasons for betraying your village,” the man said, his gravelly voice calm, almost friendly.

The interrogation must’ve gone on for hours, he’d expected Ibiki to needle him for every detail of his life after leaving Konoha – how he escaped the village, what training he underwent with Orochimaru, the kind of missions he took under his tutelage, the details of his battle with Itachi, when and why did he join Akatsuki, what intel did he give them, what intel could he give _on_ them – and he _did_ ask those questions, but he also asked more meaningless things, what did he do at Orochimaru’s base when not training or on a mission, did he make any friends in his time away, was that Karin girl always ‘like that’?

Sasuke answered as honestly as he could, willingly gave the little information he had on his former alliances, but was careful to brush past the more probing, personal questions; he could barely explain the reasons behind half of what he’d done in the past three years to himself, let alone a relative stranger he didn’t trust.

Eventually the questioning slowed to a halt and the two men were left sitting in an uncomfortable silence.

“Alright,” Ibiki said after a long five minutes of nothing, “I just have one more question.”

He waited patiently for it to come, but when it became obvious he’d have to dig for it himself, he finally muttered a reluctant, “Well?” He really didn’t want to endure the interrogator’s company for much longer.

He swore he could hear a smile in Ibiki’s voice, “Right now, you’re in a tough position – one that is entirely your own doing – but… what do you hope to gain out of this? What is your ideal end point? What can _we_ do for you that would secure your trust?”

Sasuke blinked behind the seal. “What I want…” That was a question he genuinely had no answer for.

Did he want to return to his old life, go back to when he was a kid teetering on the very edge of finding true friendship, if only he could accept it? But, he suspected that wasn’t an option anymore; even if Naruto and Sakura and Kakashi and all the other people he’d hurt could forget, _he_ couldn’t not after everything that he’d done, everything that he’d learned about the village he’d once loved; besides, everyone had changed so much, there was no way he would be able to return to those childhood memories…

So, was it revenge he wanted? Perhaps. He could hardly deny that knowing what Konoha had been involved in still ate away at him and it would be no easy task to move past the single thing that had been motivating him, ever since that night he came home to find his life torn to bloody shreds.

Was it a chance for happiness? To build a new life of peace? No, certainly not, he – of all people – did not deserve such feelings.

But… behind his blinded eyes, the splashes of colour against the field of black shifted to a familiar red.

Sasuke took a deep breath in. “I… don’t know, what it is that I want,” he said slowly, “but, I think I want the chance to find out.” The next exhale leaving him feeling lighter than he could ever remember. It wasn’t the most defined purpose, but it was something purely his and he was determined to hold onto it tightly.

“I see.” This time he definitely heard the smile in Ibiki’s voice, though it wasn’t that hard when he chuckled immediately after speaking.

The chair squeaked across the tiles as the interrogator finally stood up, he listened to the man’s surprisingly light steps as he walked to the door, it clicked open gently, then there was a short pause. “You’ll be kept informed of the council’s decision, it shouldn’t take too long now-” Sasuke gave a single nod of acknowledgement “-Yamanaka, our job here is done.”

“Yes sir.” The familiar voice shocked him in its severity, he’d not even noticed that she was there – clearly he was too reliant on his eyes, if he was going to spend the rest of his life imprisoned as he was, then he’d need to train his other senses further.

Sasuke listened to the two sets of footsteps – one steady, one hesitant – fade down the hall, as the door was once again shut and locks and seals put back into place, leaving him once again alone with only his thoughts.

He wondered what Ino might have wanted to say to him.

\---

“So, it’s been a long week, huh?”

Sasuke couldn’t help snorting. “That’s one way to put it,” he said, staring down at the village stretched out before them, trying to burn into his memory the view of it in the moonlight, overlaying the new village layout across the memories from his youth, long since dusted over in the back of his mind.

“Yeah… Seriously though, how are you feeling?” Naruto asked, voice soft as his legs kicked gently at the edge of the cliff.

He sighed as he thought over his answer, a lot had happened in a short time. Only two days after his interrogation he was released – on probation, of course – ostensibly because of his role in saving the ninja world, but he knew that it was _really_ down to the words of the blond idiot sat next to him, he’d spent most of that first day of freedom buried under a pile of reinstatement papers and loyalty agreements and all the dull administrative files that came with restoring citizenship, Shizune had had a particularly vindictive smile as she kept dropping more and more papers before him.

Even once all of that had finally been sorted, he’d barely gotten two minutes to breathe before Sakura was dragging him and Naruto away for a forced examination, her eyes glinting with promised threats should they choose to resist.

By the time that they were set free, it was the middle of the night and Sasuke was hit with the sudden realisation that he had nowhere to stay – the Uchiha district wasn’t particularly high on the reconstruction list. He’d have to start looking for a new place to live, he supposed, but he could hardly do that at this time of night, besides, he wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway, not until he’d managed to figure out some of his thoughts, not until he’d finally had a _real_ talk with Naruto, away from others and the looming cloud of the battlefield.

And his friend must have sensed that, since he’d quickly made the offer to talk a late-night walk together.

How they’d ended up here, he wasn’t sure, but it was quiet and secluded and that was enough.

“…Tired,” he eventually said; hardly the most detailed way to describe his current mood, but it was concise and accurate.

Naruto chuckled softly. “Yeah, same here.”

They sat in companionable silence for a long time, looking out over Konoha, the gentle breeze biting with the night’s chill, but Sasuke was too distracted by the pressure of so many things that just _had_ to be said, but he couldn’t spit out to notice the cold.

“Nar-”

“Sas-”

Blue met black as the two stared at each other wide-eyed, before they both broke down into mutual snickers.

“Sorry, sorry, you go first,” Naruto said, coughing to try and catch his breath.

He did the same, managing to compose himself at least a little, though he couldn’t shake the tiny smile. “Look I just wanted to say that I’m… sorry. For everything,” he finally managed to force the words into the open, though they burned his throat on the way out. “I know it’s never really going to be enough, but I really do want to take this second chance, I want to do better from now on, for you and Sakura and Kakashi, I want to help make a new world that we can all be proud of… together.”

“Sasuke-”

“I know, I know, you’ve already forgiven me,” he cut his friend off before he could start getting emotional – he’d finally managed to start talking, no way was he stopping until he’d gotten everything off his chest, “because you’re an idiot who trusts too easily, but I’ve got to apologise at least once for all the shit I pulled. I was just, so _jealous_ of you, I think I always have been, you’re just so much stronger than me, the strength to keep getting up time after time, to fight through all your fears, to try again and again to get others to acknowledge you and… it scared me.”

Naruto was giving him a strange look, his face was open as it always was, but the expression wasn’t one he could place.

He sucked in a sharp breath. “You were too close; you saw the parts of me that I was trying so desperately to hide – the parts of me that I _hate_ – and you wanted to draw them out, made me _want_ to let them out, it was the same feeling I got from my brother before… that day.

“It wasn’t rational, but somewhere deep inside, I feared that one day you would betray me too, I never really thought of it that way, I fooled myself into thinking that I was just annoyed by how much faster you were progressing, but that day I first realised you’d found a technique more powerful than mine… I wasn’t angry, I was terrified, because if you turned on me now, then I wouldn’t be able to stop you and, more than that, to be betrayed again, by my second brother… Even if I survived our battle, it would have killed me. So I betrayed you first.” His voice was quickly becoming broken and he could feel that awful prickling at the back of his eyes again.

“Sasuke,” Naruto said, giving him an understanding smile, “thanks for telling me, I know it’s really hard for you right now, it’s always been hard and I haven’t always made it any easier, so I’m sorry for that, but I’m going to do everything I can now to help you! So please keep telling me about this stuff, because brothers can count on each other to be there, right?”

He snorted and used his one hand to push his closest friend onto his side, laughing aloud at the indignant squawk he made as his body hit the grass. “Idiot, _I’m_ supposed to be the one apologising, you just can’t stop yourself from butting in.”

“Hey, who do you think you’re talking to? I saved your ass and got you out of jail, so I can apologise to you all I want!” the blond declared, jumping to his feet and pointing a finger right in his face. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry! What’re you gonna do to stop me, huh?” At this point he was shouting loud enough that he could probably wake the entire village by himself, even without Sasuke half-cackling and half-sobbing next to him.

When was the last time he’d really, truly laughed? When was the last time he’d felt like this? Genuinely happy and content, with the ever-present pain just a dull ache he could almost pretend didn’t exist, if he just focused on the sound of Naruto’s laughter.

At some point, they must’ve managed to calm down, or at least ran out of breath from their mutual hysterics and entirely ineffective shoving match, Sasuke had to collapse back onto the rough grass, gulping in the cool air and waiting for the stars above to stop spinning quite so fast. He vaguely registered the dull thud as his friend followed suit, though he still seemed to be struggling with holding in his exhausted chuckles.

Taking one last deep, calming breath, Sasuke turned his head just enough that he could see he’s profile, sharp against the night sky.

“…Thank you. For Everything.”

\---


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow that was p fast of me! I’ve been really feeling this fic lately, so I’ll probably be able to get another chap out in the next few weeks, though I’ll also be getting more hours at work so maybe not (also big thank you to my wonderful alpha spell for giving me a confidence boost regarding this chap! you're an absolute star)  
> Anyways, hope you enjoy!

\---

His new apartment was far too loud.

Somewhere on the lower floors of the building lived a family of ten – or at least that’s what it _sounded_ like, even with the ruckus those children caused was somewhat muffled by the walls and floors between them – there was always the low humming and beeping of various electronic devices being used throughout the day and across the street was a small convenience store, it didn’t sell much more than the everyday essentials, but its position in the centre of a residential area guaranteed regular foot traffic which would filter in through Sasuke’s windows.

After only three days he’d developed a near-constant headache that sharpened every time a kettle whistled, or a child kicked up a fuss over leaving the store without that sweet they wanted so badly.

The neighbours were nice enough though; the young couple to his right had welcomed him the day he moved in, but mostly kept to themselves, as civilians were wont to do. To his left lived a single, middle-aged kunoichi, who frowned every time she saw him, but was at least honest enough to tell him to his face that, while she wasn’t thrilled to be living next to a former criminal, she’d happily keep out of his way if he offered her the same courtesy.

Sasuke had readily accepted. It was always so much easier to deal with people who were up-front about their distaste for him, than those who tried to hide it behind nervous smiles and forced friendliness.

And it still wasn’t as bad as it had been crashing at Naruto’s place for the six days it had taken to find somewhere of his own.

That apartment building was home to far more families, with lots of children who would just _happen_ to find themselves outside the Hero of Konoha’s rooms, hoping to catch a glimpse of the blond – and of course Naruto had been all too eager to go out and talk to them as he walked them back to their own homes – and it wasn’t just children who were interested; many civilian adults had turned up uninvited, wanting to thank Naruto for everything he’d done, or bring him small gifts, which he’d been too kind to refuse.

The fridge had ended up so full that they’d had to call in Sakura’s help in getting rid of it, she’d tested everything for poison and then gifted it to a homeless shelter. Kakashi had made a declaration the next day that the Hero of Konoha was to be left alone.

And even without all the obnoxious, loud, irritating visitors, there was still Naruto himself to annoy him.

Things were better between them than they’d been in years – possibly ever – but their personalities were complete opposites and even without the suffocating jealousy and fear that had fuelled their arguments when they were younger, they were still both stubborn, proud and quick-tempered. Arguments had broken out often, over the silliest of things, fuelled by Sasuke’s inability to be anything other than blunt and Naruto’s joy at getting a reaction out of him and a mutual frustration borne of inactivity and physical pain from their recent amputations.

So, as soon as Kakashi had found him somewhere of his own, he’d jumped at the opportunity.

Maybe he regretted that decision, slightly, as he sat hunched over on his tiny dining table, staring at the water slowly dripping from the tap that never _quite_ turned off, the numerous conversations of everyone else in the building muted to the point that he couldn’t pick out any words, just the pitch and tone, a gentle hum that he swore he could almost feel vibrating the walls.

His stomach had been screaming at him to fill it for hours now, but he didn’t have anything in the kitchen and he couldn’t bring himself to go and buy anything.

Sasuke was not someone suited to living alone. It’d been so long since he’d _really_ been left in his own company, that he’d forgotten what it was like. Things were different when he was with Orochimaru, there had been expectations placed on him that left little time for isolation, even if the atmosphere there had hardly fostered friendships with the other poor souls caught in the snake’s belly. His time with team Taka had been too hectic, they never stayed in one place for long, always moving, always fighting, never stopping to think and the antics of his teammates – though often irritating – were enough to keep him from idle introspection.

But now, sitting alone in an empty room, he began to feel old habits creeping up on him, from the time he still lived in the house he’d grown up in, but without the family that had made it _home_.

How many nights had he spent staring up at the ceiling, eyes unfocused, face blank, mind empty but for the echoing screams of those he couldn’t save? There were no noises to distract him then, the Uchiha district was left a ghost town, he its only inhabitant, left to stew in the painful memories, no one to guide or comfort him in his darkest days.

He hadn’t known what to feel when he first found out that his old home had been levelled by Pein’s attack on Konoha; he’d lost the only place he’d ever really known or felt somewhat comfortable in and there was a part of him that despaired at the loss, try as he might to extinguish it.

A part of his heritage was gone and no matter how faithful the reconstruction, it would never again feel like home to him. But… what had he _really_ lost? Sleepless nights hearing endless screams of his loved ones, no pillow pulled over his ears ever enough to drown them out; wandering the empty houses and streets, expecting every time to be greeted by the cousins he used to play with; the constant, crushing loneliness of a child who’d lost everything.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he’d accepted that this move would be good for him, it wasn’t healthy to be surrounded by so many painful memories – and it was only now that he was realising that, only _now_ that he was getting angry at the adults who didn’t care to remove him from them earlier.

This new apartment was unfamiliar and poorly maintained and far too noisy, but it was at least a distraction from far more unpleasant things.

He wearily pushed himself to his feet, gave the tap one last turn to try and shut off the drip – no luck – and dragged himself to the bedroom. He couldn’t find it in himself to eat tonight, but perhaps the dull, grating background noises would help him sleep.

\---

“Man, this takes me back,” Naruto said. His smile was light and breezy, but his tone was annoyed as he poked at the soil with a small, rusty shovel.

That it did. Though it’d been years, Sasuke felt all the painfully dull memories of D-rank missions long gone rushing back to him like they were only yesterday. He eyed the trench that he and Naruto had been working on for about an hour now. “Looks good enough,” he said, as he awkwardly dug through the pack hanging from his shoulder and scattered a handful of seeds into it.

His friend sighed and started pushing the pile of soil he’d collected back into its home, as Sasuke trailed up the path, dropping seeds as he went.

Planting flowers along the footpaths of the newly-rebuilt Konoha Park wasn’t exactly the most prestigious of missions, but anything was better than being stuck at home on sick leave and this was a good starting point for getting back into normal life again, besides, with both of them down an arm and still adapting to the drastic change, they were hardly in any position to be pushing for more demanding tasks.

And he was actually quite enjoying himself; it was cooler than usual for this time of year, but for being out all day doing this kind of menial labour, the weather was ideal, Naruto made for fun company, even if he was mostly whining and just being able to go outside and _do_ something made him feel a little less purposeless,

Most of all though, he liked that, for once, he was helping to create something new, no matter how small or insignificant.

It wouldn’t give rise to anything for months at least, but one day a lonely child might walk these paths and find some comfort in the flowers lining them. Wishful thinking, but the thought almost made him smile.

\---

Somehow, despite being relatively new, the restaurant had managed to accrue a distinctly _aged_ feel. A smell that he’d not realised he associated with childhood until he walked in and was hit with an instant wave of nostalgia practically oozed from the walls – which had either been deliberately painted to look slightly worn and lived-in, or the place’s hygiene standards were truly appalling – and, despite having never been here in his life, it somehow felt very familiar.

He didn’t care for it, but now that Lee had spotted him enter and was practically standing on the table to wave him over, he wouldn’t be able to sneak away.

Not that he’d planned to, Naruto had seen to that, but he’d liked having the option available.

“Hey! It’s about time you showed up, Sasuke,” Naruto said, beaming, with the glint of mischief in his eyes, “you know you don’t have to spend so long doing your hair, it’ll always look shit no matter what you do to it.”

He gave his friend a mandatory glare, but quickly dropped it as he glanced around the huge table, looking for a place to sit.

There wasn’t nearly enough room. All of the rookies – plus Sai and the remaining members of team Gai – had agreed that they needed to meet up for a night out now that things had calmed down and everyone had had a chance to heal, a fine plan in concept, but even with several tables pushed together and many cushions commandeered, everyone was still crushed together, laughing and apologising as they shoved their neighbour out of the way reaching for the platters spread across the tables.

But there was one seat unoccupied, between Naruto – of course – and Chouji – probably one of the few who’d tolerate being so close to the former criminal – he gathered what little patience he could muster and dropped into it as carefully as he could.

“Well, well, well, looks like the whole squad’s finally back together, glad you finally got your act together Sasuke,” Kiba said, or rather shouted, seated as he was at the opposite end of the table.

What could he say to that? Was he supposed to say anything at all? Eventually, he settled on giving a low grunt and pouring himself a drink, unfortunately not alcoholic, but it’d give him an excuse to not talk to anyone.

Apparently his reluctance to engage was noted, as everyone quickly went back to their own conversations; Kiba was ribbing a clueless Sai – though Naruto was quick to leap to their defence; Shikamaru and Ino were bickering, much like they had as children, with Chouji content to eat and observe and occasionally offer a cheerful quip at his best friend’s expenses; Hinata, Lee and Sakura were all chatting relatively calmly, pointedly ignoring the shouting and shoving going on around them and Shino and Tenten were huddled in the far corner, it was difficult to hear them over the chaos of the rest of the group, but, judging by their snickers and subtle pointing, they were probably making sarcastic comments about everyone else’s antics.

He had no place here, the only person who he could realistically call a friend was Naruto, but _he_ wasn’t the blond’s only friend.

Naruto had so many close bonds with the other rookies, even outside of Team Seven and when he was among them… he almost glowed. There was a light in his eyes that he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen before, or at least never noticed before, too caught up in his own darkness.

“Here.” The voice jolted him back to the present, he turned to see a smiling Chouji, holding a full plate out to him.

Was this some kind of trick?

“C’mon, you haven’t touched anything except the tea, you must be hungry, right?” The plate was pushed more insistently in his direction.

With a sigh, he took it and reluctantly poked at it with a chopstick, he was pleasantly surprised to notice the okaka buried under some vegetables and the distinct lack of sweet foods. How did Chouji know his preferences? He certainly didn’t remember talking to him about them.

Or talking to him ever.

The other man seemed to know what he was thinking, if his next comment was anything to go by, “I asked Sakura what sort of things you liked when I found out you were coming; I wanted to make sure everyone would have something they’d like when I ordered.”

“Ah… thanks,” he muttered, taking a bite when Chouji’s persistent stare wouldn’t let up.

He received a bright smile in return. “See? Remember to eat because I’ll be checking your plate later,” he warned, nudging him gently, “just because you’re mostly recovered, you’ve still gotta look after yours-”

“Hey, Ino!” Tenten’s shout managed to break the flow of every conversation happening around her, “so, I’ve been hearing some pretty interesting things on the grapevine, when were you planning on filling us in?” The group quickly quieted, everyone glancing around confused – all except Ino, Shikamaru, Chouji and Sakura, strangely enough.

With the attention completely on her, Ino took a deep breath. “Well I was going to wait until things were more official, but I guess I have an announcement to make,” she started, her eyes flicked to Sakura for a split second, before she continued, her back straight and eyes focused, “I’m going to be joining the Torture and Interrogation Force.”

The silence was crushing, far more so than the mass of bodies all pressed together.

About half the group all tried to talk at once, mostly a tangled mess of what’s, when’s, why’s and how’s, but the blonde seemed to be taking it all in stride, waving a hand to shut everyone else up before elaborating, “Not right now, it’ll be a few months at least – depending on how my training goes – but I’ve been gunning for the role for a while now, a little before the war started I guess.”

“Why’d you wanna go for it? I mean, that kind of job…” Naruto looked torn between being overjoyed for a friend achieving a goal, or worried at what that goal was.

She didn’t waste much time thinking of a response, clearly this was something she’d been planning for a while.

“Most Yamanaka’s end up in that division at some point, so partly it’s that, but also… so many of the problems we’ve all had to deal with have grown from mistrust and misinformation, that’s the kind of thing that can save lives, so if I can help make sure we’re prepared, then I’m willing to do it; I don’t wanna be caught off-guard ever again.” She sent a rather sharp glance in Sasuke’s direction, but it was quickly offset with a smile and a giggle. “Oh, but once I become division head, I’m gonna be making some changes, how does ‘Konoha Interrogation and Investigation Force’ sound?”

Sakura threw her arm over the blonde’s shoulders. “It sounds great! I’m so proud of you Pig, you better work hard though, you wouldn’t want to lose to me in heading our respective divisions, right?”

Ino snorted and elbowed her friend lightly in the ribs. “Please, as if I would ever.”

Almost everyone at the table offered their obligatory congratulations, only the other members of her team and Sasuke himself stayed quiet.

“Well that’s cool an all,” Tenten said once things had calmed down a little, “but I actually meant when were you going to tell us that you and Sakura started dating.” Her grin was wide and only a little teasing.

Suddenly, all the loudmouthed confidence the two women had been exuding just seconds before melted into blushing faces and mutual sputtering.

“ _How?_ ” Ino eventually managed to spit out.

Tenten gave a surprisingly intimidating smirk. “I have my means. Also, you two aren’t exactly being subtle.” She gestured to Sakura’s arm still wrapped around her… girlfriend?

With everyone staring hard at the pair, Sakura snorted and moved her other arm to hook around Ino’s waist. “Yeah, we’re dating and I’ve got the most badass girlfriend alive, sorry Tenten, call me when Temari is head of Suna’s Intelligence Division.”

“Temari is the Kazekage’s _right hand_ , she’s Suna’s representative to other countries!”

She embraced her girlfriend even tighter – ignoring Ino’s squeaks of protest – and stared Tenten dead in the eyes as she spoke, “Still not as awesome as Ino.”

Sasuke really hoped someone would step in soon, or else a war was likely to break out.

\---

He growled as the jar once again slipped out of his grip, landing on the counter with a dull thud. How could this be so difficult; he’d opened jars for years, without the slightest issue, without even really _noticing_ it.

But now, he’d finally been bested.

Sasuke spun on his heel and slumped down into his hard dining chair – the only one he owned.

He’d known that living with only one arm would bring its challenges, but it was still deeply aggravating whenever one cropped up.

It hadn’t actually been what he’d expected, the loss of a limb had always seemed like it would be a huge, world-altering change for the victim, one that would lay them out for months at least, unable to do _anything_ without assistance, having to rethink their entire life, their perception of themself…

But, what he’d found over the past two months, was that it was less a great, destructive wave of change, and more an inescapable, smothering heat.

There was no one huge change, to his life, but a thousand tiny, almost insignificant, ones; slowing him down, forcing him to rethink tasks that he’d not even considered in the first place and just generally inconveniencing him. Even when he still had his dominant hand, he’d always been fastidious about learning to use his right one just as naturally as his left, unknowingly preparing himself for this situation, so he could still eat, he could still wash, he could dress… but almost _every_ task required new work-arounds to make them possible.

And the phantom pain was the worst, a terrible, burning, ache that started light, but grew worse as the day went on and even when the pain wasn’t shooting fire down his nerves, there was always an ever-present tightness in the arm that was no longer there, the eerie sensation of feeling his left hand brush against a surface. Looking at the empty spot and trying to reconcile the imagined feeling with the painful reality always gave him a headache.

Strangely he’d noticed that completely unrelated stimuli often created mirror sensations in the empty area below his elbow, a tap against his shoulder, the press of his feet against a cold floor, even the drips of water down his back seemed to be replicated in his arm.

It was deeply unnerving.

But pain could be dealt with, a significant part of his ninja training had involved learning to compartmentalise and fight through such things. He could deal with it. Even if he sometimes had to just sit down for a few minutes and stare hard at the blank walls while his mind screamed for relief.

Now, he just had to figure out how to adapt to his new… trouble.

Sakura had offered him a prosthetic, even sent him to a specialist for a preliminary meeting, but something about the idea hadn’t sat well with him. He couldn’t really explain it – he certainly didn’t look down of Naruto for his awkward use of a dual-pronged hook – but he suspected it tied into his hatred of appearing weak, even after the promise he’d made to himself to let those closest to him in, even if only a little.

So, he would fight through without any aid for as long as he could, until the frustration simply grew too much, only then would he let himself accept the help. Ninja were supposed to be resourceful, he had to start thinking of these everyday tasks more like missions if he wanted to beat this thing.

With a resigned groan, Sasuke pushed himself back out of his chair and stepped purposefully towards the counter once more.

His eyes narrowed as he concentrated on the external shaping of his chakra, letting it spill from his hand and pool onto the counter, quickly – before it could fade – he placed the jar on top and twisted.

The unbelievably satisfying ‘pop’ and rattle as the lid skittered along the counter, actually brought a small smile to his face.

\---


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> been a lil while, but this was a p fun chap to write!  
> some chars in this might seem ooc, all I’m gonna say about that is that war can change a lot about people…
> 
> there’s also some talk about what’s going on with world politics in this chap, it’s cynical of me, but I just can’t see everything being 100% hunky dory after so much bad history, so things might look a little bleak, but dw there isn’t gonna be another war or anything like that, I just wanted to have the huge changes the world is going through to be a little more gradual and natural
> 
> also kinda off-topic, but any of yall heard the song Lion’s Den by Jahmeel? I only just realised that daaaamn it’s just.. Exactly how I like to hc/write sauce (and he’s also just a great artist in gen totally recommend), you can probably just take it as this fic’s theme song tbh  
> (my writing alpha is p busy with life stuff rn, so you’ll have to cope with my piss-poor proofreading. sorry bout that)  
> Enjoy!

\---

He’d been managing to put it off for weeks now, but he’d finally run out of excuses and the willpower to resist.

“Well… here we are.” Naruto’s words were forced and deeply unsure, it was disturbingly unlike him.

Sasuke understood though. They all did.

The ‘official’ reunion of team seven had been a long time coming and the path to reach this point had been nothing but pain and fear and struggle, and it was entirely his fault. Sasuke had to wonder how things might’ve been if he hadn’t been so weak, so stupid, so arrogant, so _blind_ ; would they have become an inseparable team, the way that he knew everyone else had wanted, would he be able to confidently call Naruto and Sakura his best friends – without the nagging thoughts stabbing into the back of his skull, telling him that he didn’t deserve their friendship, didn’t deserve to even be within ten yards of them, not after everything he’d put them through – would Kakashi be his trusted sensei, someone whose guidance he’d accept without reserve?

However many alternate realities there were, he doubted there’d be one more uncomfortable than the one he was living right now; sitting in near-total silence in a field, with the three people who understood him best, and yet not at all, the three people that _he_ understood best, and yet not at all.

“Yeah,” Sakura said, her eyes skittering between the three men, never landing on one face for more than a few seconds, before dropping back to the grass at her knees.

Even after all these years – and with the destruction of Konoha leaving so much changed – this place was exactly as he remembered it. He couldn’t remember its real name, it had always just been ‘their’ training field, even though he knew logically that other teams must have also used it at some point.

The three wooden posts were still there, standing strong as ever, perhaps a little more worn down than they had been in his childhood, but he could still pick out scars that he himself had placed there; the dents and chips of hurled shuriken, a particularly deep chip where he’d once stabbed a kunai after his tenth failed attempt to reliably activate his sharingan; a faded blackened patch near the base of the one farthest to the right, a fire jutsu caught by an unexpected wind; the slight, horizontal gash of a tightly tied rope once struggled against…

Everything about this place cut deep into his mind, forcefully drudging up memories of a time when things had been easier, emotions he’d forgotten he was capable of tickling up and down his spine, but too feeble to truly grasp onto.

Perhaps it might’ve been better to just continue putting this off, for however long it took for Naruto to give up advocating for it.

So, three years at the very least, given his track record.

Kakashi’s sigh was familiar at least, the same one that always used to follow one of his and Naruto’s squabbles during dull, menial missions, or Sakura’s frequent outbursts at her blond teammate’s clumsy flirtations.

He couldn’t begin to explain how that sigh was so comforting, but it really was; perhaps it was because it was the only thing of normalcy that he could cling on to, the lingering remnants of a life none of them could ever go back to.

“We’re here,” their sensei said, looking and sounding decades older than he was, “it’s been a rough journey, but we’re here.”

Sakura snorted and muttered something under her breath, so quiet it was completely unintelligible, but she nodded anyway, as did Naruto.

Not wanting to seem uncooperative – even if that was exactly how he _felt_ – Sasuke nodded too.

“I…” That sigh again, a tiny sliver of relief, in a situation that was already threatening to tear his still-fractured mind apart. “I know that I don’t have any real right to say this, but… I’m _so_ proud of you, all of you,” he said, words spoken slowly, only after much deliberation, “I’m sorry I couldn’t have been the teacher you all needed, no, _deserved_.”

None of his students interrupted him, none of them cut in to stop his apologies, none of them tried to deny his claims, they just listened to a man on the verge of breaking down.

And that was all he was, really; a man, with unexpressed troubles and deep, crippling flaws, not the inhuman, perfect symbol of knowledge and power it had been so easy to build him up as in a child’s mind.

He ran a shaking hand through his hair, his single eye – even though he no longer had a sharingan to cover, Kakashi still wore his forehead protector in his usual style, Sasuke suspected that he’d spent so long using only one, that he couldn’t really adjust to bifocal vision anymore – squeezed tightly shut. “Maybe if I’d been better, if I’d listened more, instead of wilfully insisting that I knew what was best for you, or taken action, when it was so much easier to pretend you’d be able to find the answers on your own…”

A harsh bark of laughter sliced through the air, sharper than any blade.

It was disconcerting to see Sakura so openly hostile, let alone to the teacher she had always seemed to respect. “Yeah,” she said, voice dripping bitter poison, “you were never cut out to be a sensei.”

Sasuke couldn’t help the way he was staring, he’d known that she had changed, but to this extent? What baffled him even more, was the way that Naruto wasn’t immediately leaping to his precious teacher’s defence, he only sat quietly, even nodding just slightly – though his expression was conflicted.

“Your focus was always too narrow and you really screwed us over, especially _me_ , but… you had your own shit to deal with and still cared enough to try, I’m grateful for that much, bad as you were at it.”

He almost wanted to slap his hand over her mouth – even _he_ knew that being so blunt about someone’s faults directly to their face was entirely inappropriate – but his own uncertainty and Kakashi’s ginger chuckle stayed his arm.

Even with so much of his face hidden, it had never been difficult to tell when his teacher was smiling. “I suppose I deserve that, I’m just glad that you’ve all become who you are, even without my help.”

With a sharp nod from Sakura, all the unspoken pains and failures were accepted, though perhaps not quite forgiven yet – perhaps not ever. The arm slung heavily over her shoulder quickly lightened her expression.

“Hey, it wasn’t all bad,” Naruto said, a familiar grin crinkling his eyes, “remember all those fun times where we’d try and sneak a look at his face?”

Oh yeah. Those memories had been kept away for so long, that he could practically feel the dust clinging to his fingers as he carefully dragged them back out, but they came with a certain warmth. Times like that had been the few times he’d ever been allowed to act like the child he was, away from clutching memories and crushing expectations.

Naruto snickered slightly, his arm tightening around his friend’s neck. “And honestly, I think if you’d ever gotten any _real_ training from sensei, you’d have turned out even more terrifying than you are now-” he grunted at the elbow jabbing into his ribs, but still managed to speak through the hand smothering his face “-remember that second bell test? I think Kakashi actually thought he was gonna die for a second there-” at this point the pair were practically wrestling in the dirt, Naruto trying and failing not to laugh as the pink-haired girl weakly pinned him, poking at his cheeks and pulling his ears “-and then you went and punched a bunny goddess! That was so badass, you’re so cool, man, Ino’s gotta be the luckiest girl alive-”

“Oh my _god_ , stop talking!” She was practically crying through her unashamed snorts.

Their teacher was sighing again, but he lent a – mostly useless – hand when Sakura started calling for backup.

And Sasuke could do nothing more than watch, mouth held into a firm line and brows lowered; a large part of him wished to drop his mask, join in their fun, but these were not the people he’d once known and he was not the person they’d once known.

He was already an interloper, a silent observer, lingering in the shadows – greedily soaking in their happiness, since he’d never reach it himself, trying vainly to ignore his fist tightening at the display – to force himself into this relationship would just be cruel, he had no place in this team, at least not right now. Maybe with much time and effort and attempts to rediscover each other, they could find a new dynamic, one that suited the people they’d become.

But not now.

Now, these people were owed at least this little solidarity. He would just have to be content to watch from the sidelines.

\---

“That’ll be two-hundred yen, please.”

Sasuke absently handed the money over, inelegantly juggling the coins in his hand and the folded paper held firm between his stump and his side, not bothering to look at the shopkeeper for any longer than it took to nod and swiftly walk away from the stall.

It was strange going through purely legal channels to gather data, especially with regards to world politics, where motivations were cards held close to the chest, secrets were kept better guarded than any daimyo’s gold and plans were intricately woven tapestries, tracing a single thread from the greater whole a task ninja spent decades training for.

For _anyone_ to be publishing such information publicly would’ve been unthinkable just a few months ago, let alone some of the most powerful nations in the known world.

He wondered how much more things might change in the coming years, if this was the new norm.

Reaching a secluded, wooded area of the park, he sat down and started to read; he would’ve preferred to stay at home, but Naruto had passed along an order from Sakura – who still avoided being alone with him as much as she could, perfectly understandable as far as he was concerned – that he was looking unusually pale and tired and he needed to get out in the sun more.

It was only because of Naruto’s insistence on hammering on his door at five am every, single, morning to remind him, that he’d actually taken up the advice. It was either that, or put up with the blond pestering him to get out for an hour with the kind of loud, obnoxious, incessant wall of noise that only Naruto was capable of. The neighbours hadn’t appreciated the disturbances any more than he had.

He’d finally relented after the tenth day, on the condition that his friend was absolutely _not_ to come with him.

Thankfully, he’d happily agreed, though he’d taken to staying in Sasuke’s apartment for the designated hour, just in case he tried to pull a fast one on him.

And, he hated to admit it, but his daily excursions had actually become an enjoyable disruption to his dull, empty, repetitive life; for a short time, he could let his mind wander free of the claustrophobic walls of his home, focus on simpler things, like the slow growth of trees and shrubbery along his usual routes, or the ever-shifting social structures of the local children.

On the seventh day, he’d noticed for the first time the man selling newspapers and magazines, only a few blocks from his place.

It had been a complete whim to pick one up – the fact that the leading headline had read ‘Sunagakure leader pushes for permanent alliance’ was only a _minor_ factor – but it wasn’t a decision he regretted.

He’d thought that keeping himself distanced from the goings on of the rest of the world, would be best for his fragile mental state, at least until he had settled into a more stable position, but reading about how the world had changed after the last Great Ninja War was actually quite interesting and it gave him a better sense of how different things were now. Perhaps it might even help him decide how he wanted to change himself, as his old motivations had crumbled under his feet, worn away by years of pain and anger and Naruto’s devastating friendship.

Revenge wasn’t a sustainable purpose, he understood that much at least, but forgiveness wasn’t realistic either, certainly not for him, so seeing how others were finding a way to move past old hurts and work together was educational and helped to put things into perspective for him.

Konoha had been leading the charge, of course, even without the Hero of Konoha openly supporting peace and understanding between all nations, Kakashi was using his new rank to bring about as much positive change as possible – at least until he could convince Tsunade to retake her former position.

They’d officially forgiven a number of crimes committed against them by other villages, though the declaration wasn’t entirely welcomed, many, especially the older generations who had already lived through many conflicts and betrayals, worried that the move made them appear weak and would be taken advantage of.

Kirigakure had taken a stance of repentance; hoping to dissolve the reputation of the Bloody Mist, many apologies and reparations that had long been left unfulfilled were starting to be paid, but at the expense of the land’s own population. They were still the most reluctant to reveal internal information though, the only news coming out of Mizu no Kuni was quite clearly doctored to show them as a united, changed people; the rumblings of revolt only slipping out as unproven rumours.

Things up north in Kumo had been mostly quiet, they had been the closest of the Five Nations to the battle and as such had far more to rebuild than the others, but for the first time in centuries, they’d dissolved the greater part of their military, as was expected of all shinobi nations during peacetime, and had even taken it upon themself to support their smaller, weaker neighbours – whose lands had been devastated by months of war – in reconstruction and rehousing thousands of refugees, they showed that they were more willing than ever before, to share their great wealth and power.

No talk of _returning_ the knowledge of jutsus and resources stolen over the years, however, or of ending their power-grabbing ways.

Iwa, unusually for them, had taken a bold leap into building relations, they’d always been a country content to single-mindedly sit out crises, waiting until all available options were revealed to them, before making any move and always acting with self-interest in mind, but they had been active since the war ended, lending ninja skilled in earth jutsu to those countries whose lands had been drastically altered.

More specifically, they’d been working very closely with Suna – apparently their respective Kage had become quite good friends during the war – other villages however, mostly had to deal with the same stubborn, disinterested Tsuchikage they always had.

And as for Suna… well they’d apparently decided that they would be the shining beacon for the others to follow, an example of how trust and cooperation didn’t mean weakness.

Kaze no Kuni had been almost entirely untouched by the war, the land and its people left in peace by Akatsuki, whose focus had been much further east, as such, for once Sunagakure had the strongest position of any ninja village, a position that they’d decided to use to help as many as possible.

Suna shinobi were the only ones in the Five Nations still taking outside contracts – too busy restructuring, all other villages were only accepting domestic jobs – performing rebuilding, escort and diplomatic missions in foreign lands, all for a considerably reduced price.

It was unsurprising to be honest; Gaara, likely more than anyone else, had taken Naruto’s lessons to heart and his honest faith along with it, though tempered by a touch more practicality and guile than his blond friend had. He’d also been working to make such changes for a few years now, so it made sense that he’d already had a strategy prepared for when the old world dissolved into ash, ready to be reshaped.

Sasuke smirked as his eyes scanned a short article about the Kazekage’s latest speech, asserting the necessity of open communication between ninja villages and hard compromises to be made on all sides if this peace were to last.

He wasn’t sure he believed that such a radical shift to world order was sustainable, but if humanity could survive the storm that was undoubtedly coming, then perhaps…

\---

“Sasuke, I’d like to talk to you.”

Slowly, he turned towards the voice, half expecting to see nothing but the confirmation that he was losing his grip on reality, but no.

There really was an unnervingly blank-faced Hinata Hyuuga standing behind him, long hair slightly ruffled by the breeze and casual civilian clothing not matching her expression; that of a shinobi who absolutely _would not_ fail their mission.

He wasn’t quite sure what she wanted from him – had they ever actually spoken to each other before? – but something in her eyes told him to stay and humour her.

Not like he was planning on doing anything worthwhile with his evening anyway.

With a cautious nod, he followed her silent lead, away from his neighbourhood and back into the market he’d just left. It was surprising how quickly the streets could clear, less than an hour ago he was trying to avoid being jostled about, as people rushed through town, but now, with the dusk sun painting the sky in red, gold and purple and the citizens of Konoha retreating home for the evening, the pair could walk with a comfortable seven feet between them, not glancing at each other, except to ensure they were still heading the same way.

Of all the people he’d expected to be able to share a calm, easy atmosphere with, Hinata was not one of them, but it was admittedly a nice change to have someone who wouldn’t pepper him with questions and could let the air be still for at least a minute without feeling the need to disrupt it.

By the time they’d found a small, empty, out-of-the-way teashop to enter, sitting at a small table as far in the corner as they could find, far away from the few customers still lingering, he managed to convince himself that this was just going to be a bizarre, but pleasant, outing of companionable silence and refreshing drinks.

That illusion held up as the tired-looking waiter took their orders – stifling a yawn as he walked away to prepare the tea – and still not a single word had passed between them, except for the question of what he wanted to drink.

The second that Hinata’s cup hit the table with a delicate, controlled ‘clink’ after taking her first sip, however, that illusion shattered.

“I do not trust you,” she said; careful, measured, but exuding a deadly poise.

He’d almost choked on his black tea, but managed to restrain his reaction to only a slight widening of his eyes, as he lowered his own drink. “Oh?”

She took a deep breath, though it wasn’t one of nerves, even a passing glance at her statue-still hands and the steady rise and fall of her chest revealed her utter composure. “I don’t doubt your reasons for returning,” her voice was slow, long sips of her tea taken between breaths, he suspected she was purposefully controlling her stammer, though whether to put on an air of strength, or so that he clearly understood her message, he couldn’t say, “and I believe you are truly regretful of your past actions.”

“So, you believe I honestly want to rejoin Konoha and am looking to repent, what _don’t_ you trust?” he asked, glancing off to the side in a display of boredom, but part of him was teetering on the edge of nervousness; no conversation about his past, or present, motives had ever been good.

There was a long, painful pause before she answered, long enough for him to turn back to her with a raised brow.

“Your resolve.”

His fist tightened so hard around his cup, that he might’ve heard the faint crack, were it not for the thunderous, pulsing air suddenly pushing hard against his ears, threatening to crush his puny skull under the weight of it.

Eyes trained intently on the woman opposite him, he saw her hair straying from its perfect, sleek waterfall of black; drawn to the crackling static surrounding him.

Anyone else might’ve been intimidated, but Hinata didn’t look scared, nor sympathetic.

Her face was nothing but cold rage. “I want to believe that you have the mental strength to make this work, but I don’t,” she said, pausing to take a calm sip of her tea, before turning her narrow, eerie eyes back upon him, “and I don’t want you to fail your team ever again.”

Clawing back as much as his composure as he was capable of, he glared down into his cup, hot water slowly dripping out of spider-silk fine cracks, the burning against his hand grounding him, just slightly. “What does it matter to you? You know Naruto has never loved you, right, you’re wasting your time throwing affection at him.” A petty, low blow, but it made him feel better regardless.

“…I know, which is why I stopped chasing that dream a long time ago now, but I still love him, as a friend, as an example of everything I wish to be and I will protect him.” Since when had this weak little _girl_ become so self-assured, how was _she_ more mature than him now? “You weren’t there, you didn’t see what you leaving did to him, or Sakura, or anyone else; you didn’t see the sleepless nights, the breakdowns, the fear they felt on behalf their lost friend, the fear _of_ their lost friend. They deserved better than you, but they never gave up on you either and now you have a chance to make things right.”

That cut deeper than he’d ever openly admit, he focused instead on the way that the hot, sticky tea was pooling between his fingers, slipping through to paint scalding rivers down the back of his hand.

She quickly finished the last of her drink, the bobbing of her throat emphasizing her jugular temptingly. With a drawn-out sigh, she placed her cup down with the grace of decades of harsh training and pushed herself to her feet, he expected her to walk away without saying anything more, but she halted right next to his seat, glancing down at him from the corner of her eye.

“If you fail again, then I hope you find mercy from whatever gods you meet at your end. You won’t find it from me.”

\---

He sighed, staring unblinkingly at the plain ceiling above him. It wasn’t even interesting, just a boring, empty span of off-white; not a single crack or chip for his wandering eyes to focus on, the paint was a uniform colour all over, no stains to occupy his mind, no anomaly to build a story around and even the texture was completely smooth, paint strokes perfectly linear, no patterns to trace with his gaze.

Sasuke didn’t want to look at the clock, because living in the safe space between ignorance and inevitability was so very comforting – though he could already make a rough estimate of the time based on the way the light had been gradually changing, what little filtered through the drawn curtains had started to cast the room in a deep shade of navy, replacing the dull black.

But, he couldn’t just lie here until morning, waiting for sleep that wasn’t coming, until Naruto started banging on his door and demanding that he get ready to face the day.

With a drawn-out groan, he pushed himself up, staring for a long moment into his lap, before the will to actually leave the bed finally overpowered his body’s desire to curl back up and stagnate for another few hours.

At least he wasn’t being haunted by memories tonight – his mind too preoccupied with his recent conversation with an old… acquaintance – but, then again, he found himself almost missing them, at least the screaming and all-encompassing images of blood and pain and hate were _distracting_ ; fear was far more familiar and bearable to him than boredom and confusion.

He wouldn’t go to the kitchen, he’d been there all evening and knew that if he went back now then he’d just end up staring at the tap until the sun rose.

But, there really wasn’t much else to do in his apartment either; any belongings from his youth had long since been lost or destroyed and he wasn’t earning enough with his menial D-rank missions to splurge on anything that wasn’t food, rent, or daily necessities.

Not that there was anything he really _wanted_ to buy.

He felt jittery and odd, he desperately wanted to sleep, if only so that he wouldn’t have to _think_ for a while, but his thoughts wouldn’t let him be. He wanted to do something, anything, but he didn’t know what. He wanted to train, but exhaustion weighed him down. He wanted to move on, but, even if he could let himself do so, apparently no one else would. He wanted to just… not be, but he didn’t deserve such peace, not while he still had so much to atone for. He wanted to _talk_ to someone, but who would understand, let alone actually list-

A startlingly loud bang sounded against a wall, he’d dropped into a battle stance immediately, but clawing at his leg reminded him that he wasn’t carrying any weapons.

“Stop your pacing, if you can’t sleep go read a book, or write a poem,” the gruff, weary voice of Etsuko filtered through the thin walls, followed by the muffled shuffling of someone returning to their bed.

He frowned, but antagonising the kunoichi next door would only make his life harder in the long run.

Sighing, he glanced around his room; he had no books, only old newspapers he’d already memorised, but poetry…

Keeping his steps light and movements quiet, he rummaged through the box that’d been holding the few belongings he still had from his time away from Konoha, it wasn’t very big, so finding his target was easy. Pulling the familiar, barely-used notebook out, he picked up the pen on his bedside table and settled back onto his bed, legs crossed and book opened against his knee.

Not poetry – he didn’t have the aptitude or patience for metaphor and allegory – but perhaps putting his turbulent thoughts to paper would let him rest, Sakura had said something to that effect once.

The pen – held uncomfortably in his wrong hand – hovered over the blank surface for a long time though, unable to find any way to start, just writing thoughts as they came would end up with a jumbled mess, but trying to write a one-sided dialogue with a non-existent reader just left him cringing, how the hell did anyone do this sort of thing, putting emotions into coherent, logical-

His eyes passed over the stack of papers he’d been collecting over the past few weeks.

Not even thinking, his hand started to move.

_Gaara,_

_I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never liked sharing my thoughts, but not having to be face-to-face helps._

_And you listened once before, when you really didn’t have to._

_Why am I even talking to you like you’re going to read this? I’m never going to send it, I just... want to pretend that someone out there might actually care._

_I’m not sure I can do this, I keep thinking I’m on the verge of becoming ‘normal’ and ‘right’ but I’m not. I don’t know how to be. The only person I can talk to anymore is Naruto and that’s just because he’s good at talking, I never had a single friend here, other than him and I guess that his friends don’t want me around either. How am I supposed to make things up to him, when everyone else wants me dead, they tell me I’m too weak to change as if I don’t already know that, but if I get angry and lash out, then I’ll just be proving them right._

_Every day I want to die, but when I think of what comes next… I’m scared. I’m so_ fucking _scared of it, I don’t even know what I’m scared of, I might as well already be in hell, with all the memories that won’t let me go, and even if I don’t go there, an endless nothing should be a comforting concept, but every time I think of it, something makes me want to scream._

_What am I even doing, I keep saying I want to change, to redeem myself, my clan, but I haven’t done anything, I barely manage to get out of the house some days, the only helpful things I ever do now are missions that a child would be capable of, while you and Naruto and everyone else are out there trying to change the world, I’m stuck watching, wondering how the fuck you can have so much belief and motivation._

_For the longest time, I only ever wanted one thing, but when I got it, it turned out that I’d been fed a lie my whole life and that what I thought was saving my clan, just destroyed the only good thing it ever made._

_How do I fix everything I’ve broken, when I can’t even fix myself?_

\---

The door slammed heavily behind Naruto, his indignant, “Hey, what kinda goodbye is that!” not even a little muffled, but Sasuke ignored it; as much as he… cared for his friend, sometimes he just talked _way_ too much.

Meandering idly through his flat, he wondered what he should do with the rest of his day. He’d just gotten back from his mandatory hour outside – the morning paper still in his hand – and he didn’t need to go shopping anytime soon. He’d take up Naruto’s offer of lunch, but the blond was being particularly grating today, and he didn’t feel like getting into a fight right now. The place where his arm ended started twinging again, for the fifth time that morning, it wasn’t full-on agony yet, but it probably wasn’t far off; frowning, he stepped into his tiny bedroom, searching the dresser for his painkillers.

But, as his hand wrapped around the plastic bottle and he habitually performed the chakra-pooling one-handed method of opening it that he’d become quite proficient at as he adjusted to his disability, an irregularity caught his eye.

He stared at the notebook lying next to the neat pile of newsletters.

Mild curiosity had him flipping through to the page he’d poured his confused, rambling thoughts onto last night.

The words made him want to just burn the thing immediately, what was he even _thinking?_ But then again… maybe they weren’t unsalvageable. He quickly located a pen and brought the diary through to the kitchen, settling down to start writing again, thoroughly culling those thoughts that he absolutely did not want to ever see the light of day.

By the time he’d rewritten the letter and was relatively happy with the words, his medication had just started to kick in, leaving him absentminded and dazed.

He blamed his decision to rip out the page and actually _post it_ to the Kazekage entirely on that.

\---


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ello me lovelies, not much to say about the chap really, except Hot Damn this one is a bit of an emotional rollercoaster
> 
> Just a quick note though; in this fic sai is agender, which means they identify as ‘genderless’, and thus use gender-neutral pronouns (they/them/theirs), if you have an issue with that…….. well you’ll just have to get in line behind all the other homophobic sexist twatling toddlers that this fic seems to attract like flies (the Extremely Lesbian Content in this chap goes out specially to you, fuckwits!). Hate-speech comments will be deleted, as always, bc my lovely readers don’t need to see that shit.
> 
> As for the rest of you, hope you enjoy!

\---

“Keep still, I promise it’s nothing bad.”

Sakura’s brows furrowed lightly, as she tried to turn her head towards the blonde flitting around her. “Riiiight, because last time I trusted you like this went _so_ well-”

A hand slapped over her eyes just before she managed to open them. “I told you that wasn’t supposed to happen!” Ino snapped, “If Tenten hadn’t scared the shit out of me it would’ve been the most romantic moment of your entire life.”

“Wow, you sure don’t lack for confidence, huh?”

Snorting and finally releasing her girlfriend’s eyes, Ino settled behind her once more, hands working with practiced ease through short, pink hair. “Well it’s not like you’ve got any other experience to compare me to. And keep your eyes closed.”

Sakura responded with a playful ‘ouch’ but her lids stayed firmly shut.

He wasn’t _watching_ them, no matter what anyone else might think; in fact, if he thought he could move from his current position hidden amongst the branches of a tall oak without alerting the two women to his presence, then he would’ve disappeared the second they’d wandered into the clearing, Sakura stumbling as she was led blindly through the trees, Ino walking backwards holding both her hands, the pair giggling uncontrollably with every awkward step.

He wasn’t watching them, but he couldn’t deny feeling a sliver of curiosity at the scene unfolding beneath his feet either.

Although he’d somehow found himself as the object of people’s affections many times in his life, he’d never actually seen, or even really considered, romance. Sure, he’d been aware of it – he still remembered a time when he would stick his tongue out at every kiss his parents shared in his presence, the longing looks to his turned back, the giggles that seemed to follow him like a particularly persistent fly throughout his adolescence – but it had always been a distant and mysterious concept to him.

Maybe it was just because he’d always had other things distracting him, or he’d never wanted to actually look for it anywhere, but this kind of love was completely foreign to him. He probably could have gone his whole life not thinking about it and been quite happy, but now…

Ino had finally finished with her fussing, but instead of telling her girlfriend to open her eyes, she had taken the opportunity to just sit directly in front of her, staring and _smiling_ in a way she’d never looked at him.

Even as inexperienced with romance as he was, it wasn’t hard to identify the emotion.

“Hey, I can’t hear you moving, can I look now?” Sakura mumbled, nose scrunching up slightly in a way that just made Ino smile even wider.

Carefully brushing her long skirt clean of petals and grass stains, the blonde woman said, “Yes.”

Bright, clear, green eyes finally blinked open and immediately set to scanning the woman before her, with cherry blossoms woven into her long, thick, golden braid – even at this distance, his sharp vision easily picked up the way her mouth dropped open into a tiny ‘o’ and the slight blush dusting her cheeks – before pulling a lock of her shoulder-length hair forwards enough to see the small, purple flowers that cascaded down from the delicate crown placed atop her head.

She glanced around the clearing, reaching out to gently brush a cluster of tiny, pastel-coloured buds, smile growing as she took in all the others surrounding them.

Ino was practically bouncing in place as she leaned forwards, hands worming their way into Sakura’s

His teammate grinned wide, mirroring her actions until their foreheads were pressed together. “Oh Ino… you’re so cheesy.”

There was a scandalised gasp and she was pushed onto her back; though not hard enough to stop her laughing. Ino crossed her arms, pouting, even as she mumbled, “Last time I do anything nice for you, ungrateful little-”

Lips were pressed hastily together and apologies were given, but he was too lost in his own thoughts to pay much attention to that.

This was something he didn’t understand at all, but… there was something beautiful about it. He was happy, he supposed, that they’d managed to find it in each other – and definitely happy that they at least wouldn’t be bothering _him_ anymore – they deserved happiness, all of them did.

Sasuke didn’t think he’d ever find it though. Even if he wanted to – and the thought of being in a relationship had never really appealed to him before – who would even take him? Looks he might still have, but even that couldn’t possibly overcome… everything else.

He wouldn’t know what to do with a relationship, even if he had one.

He certainly wouldn’t be able to pull off any grand displays of affection like Ino had.

Still, he was an interloper, intruding upon a precious, personal moment, even if he didn’t quite understand what was going on.

The two kunoichi were now lying side-by-side together in the grass, fingers idly dancing across the flowerbed Ino had apparently planted here herself, talking quietly in a language of sighs and laughter and incomprehensible in-jokes.

He would make his escape as silently as possible while they were distracted, hopefully they’d never know he was there; he didn’t want to corrupt this moment for them.

\---

The screams weren’t ear-piercing anymore, though he knew that they hadn’t softened at all. No, he’d just gotten so used to it that they were now little more than a monotonous background noise.

They’d never been the real trial anyway, as grating as they were and as on-edge as they left him – hand twitching for weapons he didn’t have on him, eyes flickering to find no source for the constant wailing, shoulders hunching tighter as he tried to fight the urge to turn and defend himself from an attack that wasn’t coming – what had always cut away at him were the _visions_.

Every time he closed his eyes, he was transported to a world of stark red skies and shadows of figures long gone from the world, the torture of his family painted across the back of his eyelids with each blink.

So, he kept his eyes wide open instead, staring unblinkingly at his dingy kitchen, small and mundane and safe and _real_.

Until crimson started to bleed in at the edges of his vision, the indistinct shape of the fridge in the dark morphed into something uncomfortably human, the constant drip of the leaky tap a perfect match to the inky blood, dripping down from the cupboards.

He closed his eyes again, for the blessed relief of empty black.

Five hours now, and it wouldn’t stop.

It was one of the worst episodes he’d had since he was a child, when he was surrounded by the ghosts of loved ones he failed to save and with the Tsukuyomi visions of their deaths still planted clear in his memories.

Ten years on and he could still recall every second he spent in that unreal hellscape, every slash across a throat that splashed hot, sticky blood onto his face, every cousin who fell with an unsuspecting smile, how his uncle had soiled himself as he lay dying a slow, painful death, the way the sword sank through his mother’s back and her hand reaching towards him, silent accusations on her lips, his father’s-

His eyes snapped open again as the images once again encroached on his sight, blinding out the dark.

No matter how many times he saw this, it somehow _never_ got any easier; in the real world he’d become completely desensitised to the even the most horrific kinds of violence – all shinobi did eventually – he could watch electricity burn through skin so fast that the victim didn’t even have time to scream, he’d heard the shattering of bone beneath heavy steel, seen all the ways blood drained out of a person, leaving only a sallow, limp husk behind, so how could this still affect him so deeply? He really hadn’t moved forward _at all_ , had he, just convinced himself that the festering corpse of the boy he’d once been wasn’t rotting away at the back of his psyche-

The crash of the chair hitting the floor jolted him out of his trance momentarily, he panted hard, beads of sweat dripping down his temples, room spinning around him.

He bent to lean heavily on the table, support himself when his legs were threatening to collapse from under him, but he failed to account for his missing arm – not quite toppling forwards, but being left unbalanced and shaky and _pissed_.

“You aren’t strong enough.” Sasuke bit back a whimper, absolutely refusing to turn to where the voice had sounded and face the brother that wasn’t there.

“I will love you forever.”

 _No!_ That was a lie and he knew it, how could someone who loved him so much ever put him through this torture, why couldn’t Itachi find another way, _any_ other way, something that didn’t leave him like this, struggling not to sob into a battered kitchen table, limbs shaking and lungs attempting to choke him from the inside out.

He never should have returned to Konoha. The memories here were just too close, they lingered in every street, every corner, every sound, every smell; _here_ was where you once played tag with your cousins Sayuri and Naoki, _there_ you were once comforted by great aunt Chouko after a nasty fall, _here_ you stopped before going home that day to buy some meaningless little trinket, _there_ you were found alone and surrounded by bodies, hours after you’d blacked out.

Every little thing about this place brought back memories, more vivid and frequent than they ever were when he was away from his home village.

Why was he still fighting a battle that had been ended long ago? Why had the truth finally revealed to him by his brother done so little to alleviate his pain? Why had he agreed to come back? What the _fuck_ was he supposed to do now?

Closing his eyes against the horrific images etched into the wood-grain of the table, he pushed himself up with his weak arm, blindly staggering across his tiny apartment until he reached the door. Not even bothering to put on shoes, he let the bright moonlight mask the visions, as he dashed to the nearest empty training field. He needed to be somewhere he could safely lash out right now.

\---

Sasuke took in a long breath – he really didn’t like talking so much – before finishing, “In conclusion; the mission went without a hitch.”

“…You know I honestly can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic, or if you genuinely take janitorial missions this seriously,” Kakashi said, head leaning heavily in one hand, the other tapping rhythmlessly against his desk.

His only response was a raised eyebrow; his old teacher didn’t need to know the reasoning behind _all_ his actions.

Sighing, the older man rolled up and sealed the report, tossing it into the pile of scrolls in the corner – he either didn’t notice that his throw disturbed half of the precarious mountain, or didn’t care – leaning back in his chair and flashing a lazy, hidden smile. “Well, good job anyways, Konoha positively flourishes under your enthusiasm, I’m sure.”

Not bothering to end the conversation like a normal human being, Sasuke spun sharply on his heel and started walking to the door.

“Ah, hold on just a second.”

He frowned, hand hovering just over the door handle, but quickly wiped it away before turning back to his Kage. The man was rummaging through a drawer, thoughtlessly dropping scrolls and papers all around him as he searched. Apparently, his hope was that by being as negligent as he could get away with in his position – he wasn’t completely irresponsible after all – someone would realise that he was absolutely not the person to be in this role and kick him back down to regular jounin, giving the title to _anyone_ else but him.

It clearly hadn’t been working out.

Kakashi’s mumbling cut off suddenly as he finally located the scroll he was looking for. “Aha, here-” the red tube was casually tossed his way “-this arrived for you last night.”

Dark brows met above his eyes, Sasuke turned the scroll in his hands, his question about getting another mission so soon was cut off before he could even open his mouth, the seal keeping the thing bound wasn’t the kind usually found on official orders, was this about his parole or something?

“What’s with that look? You act like you’ve never gotten a letter before.”

“You know what this is about?” he asked, glaring at his sensei as though this was a trick of some kind – he wouldn’t put it past him.

The man held his hands up in defence. “I don’t make a habit of reading private correspondence,” he said, before bringing his hands to rest behind his head and leaning back in his chair. “If it helps though, I believe that’s the Kazekage’s personal seal.”

Kaze- _Gaara_? Why the hell would he be getting a letter from him of all people? Was this an official statement to a former criminal or something? Or… wait a minute.

Suddenly he had a very bad feeling.

Frowning at the innocent scroll like it might catch fire any second, he nodded and quickly made his retreat.

\---

He took his time walking home, unfortunately, his stalling didn’t last long; he had so little going on in his life, that by the time he’d finished ambling through the market to pick up some groceries and household essentials, he’d simply run out of ideas for excuses to not immediately head back to his apartment.

And the entire time, he felt the weight of the small scroll in his pocket, pulling at his consciousness, leaving all manner of unpleasant thoughts circling his brain constantly.

It’d been almost three weeks since he had accidentally sent the Kazekage a way-too-personal letter in a painkiller-induced delirium and in that period he’d managed to convince himself that there would never be a reply – hell, it probably hadn’t even have reached him in the first place, no way could a message from a former criminal get into the hands of a world leader unvetted – and yet against all reasonable logic, he now had one.

He honestly couldn’t tell if his fear was that the response might be everything he’d come to expect from Gaara, or that it might _not_ be.

The door clicked softly as it swung shut behind him and his sandals made dull thuds as he kicked them off. The scroll was threatening to bend his back with its weight of potentiality, but he continued ignoring it as he wandered to the kitchen, putting his shopping into the designated cupboards, started the kettle boiling, cleaned and put away the few dishes left from last night, brewed some of the lavender tea that he’d been ‘prescribed’ by Tsunade to ease tension and anxiety – she didn’t actually believe it worked, but had told him to come back to her with the results anyway, apparently she wasn’t above using him as a guinea-pig – he’d even tidied the clutter that had somehow taken over his tiny living space while he waited for it to cool.

God, he was pathetic.

Finally out of menial tasks to distract himself, Sasuke sat heavily at his dining table and took a long swig of his tea.

It was too flowery for him, taste lingering on his tongue unpleasantly and he’d not left it quite long enough, so the liquid left a mild burn behind it, but in his present state of mind, he barely even noticed.

The scroll was lying innocently on the table-top, looking far more mundane than it had any right to. He’d expect a Kage’s missive to be grand and extravagant, but the only thing decorating the black seal was an unfamiliar symbol, almost like a kanji, but more flowing and dotted with stars; perhaps it was written in Kaze no Kuni’s native language?

Uncertainty making his hand clumsier than usual, he reached over and ran a sliver of chakra across it, letting the loose end fall open.

Another two minutes of back-and-forth on the potential merits of just hitting the thing with a fire jutsu and pretending he’d never received any such letter in the first place to anyone who asked, he finally, _finally_ gave in and unrolled it enough to read what the Kazekage had to say to him.

_Sasuke,_

_I was surprised to receive a message from you,_

He couldn’t help snorting; that had to be an understatement.

_And I do not know if I’m the best person to help you through your struggles, I have much to atone for myself and even now make missteps, but I suppose I might have some valuable insights as someone who has already attempted the journey you are now on._

_The first months were the most trying, when the memory of your actions looms large in the mind of those who once hated you and your own wounds are still raw. Many times, you will find yourself slipping back into anger; the urge to lash out at those who refuse to look upon you long enough to see your sincerity is a difficult thing to restrain… but it is the same way for them as well, fear is a natural response, likely one that has kept them safe before._

_You will not overcome those impulses overnight, it took many, many months before I could stop myself attacking anyone who unknowingly stepped too close to an old mental scar. Even now, there are days when I cannot be around others for their own safety, not even my siblings or closest friends. Those days, I will seclude myself in my home, or escape to the most isolated parts of the desert, meditation helps, once the worst thoughts can be contained again, you may return to the original source of stress with more clarity and work to reassure them._

_The views of others are unknowable things, difficult to truly understand and even more difficult to change. Start with those already closest to you, those who never abandoned you, even though they had the most reason, show them that you are willing to try, that you can come to care for them in the same way, become someone worthy of their love and respect and, if they are willing, then allow them to support you. I am sure Naruto will know best how to guide you, when the path ahead will be too steep and when to take a diversion. Eventually, you will be able to see through the haze and walk confidently on your own, but until then, there is no shame in letting yourself be led._

_While your friends help you on the outside, you can focus on exploring and reconciling your own self; trying to change the world’s perception of you, when you don’t understand every part of your mind and soul is an impossible task and the struggle will only leave you frustrated. Take the time you need to rediscover those parts of you that you thought lost and salvage what you can._

_Redemption is not something that one can ever hold in one’s hands, it can only ever be given by others and what one may eventually forgive, another might cling to until their last breath. You do not do this with the intent to scrub yourself clean of all your sins, or to eventually be forgiven by all you have wronged – such goals will forever be unattainable to those like us – you do this because you truly want to improve the lives of others, whether you will be thanked for it or not._

_I hope my words have helped you, even if there is still much I myself have to learn. If you have more questions, then I will do my best to answer them, just remember that this process will take time and overreaching may result in setbacks in the long-term._

_What is coming is better than what is gone, Gaara._

_P.S. Temari tells me that three weeks is an exceptionally rude amount of time to keep someone waiting for a reply. My apologies._

Finally leaning back in his chair after the third read through, Sasuke had to stare blankly at the ceiling for a good long while, wondering how advice could sound both blindingly obvious and unsurpassably daunting all at once.

Still, there was… _something_ to Gaara’s words, even if he couldn’t currently see any practical application for them.

The man still understood him better than anyone else he’d ever met and their paths through life had run parallel, if not on the exact same tracks. Even if his advice was mostly metaphorical and not as specific as he’d like, there was much he could learn from someone so far ahead of him on their similar journeys. And, mixed in with the idealistic analogies that could’ve come straight from Naruto’s mouth if they weren’t quite so eloquent, there was certainly some of the blunt truth that the redhead seemed so adept at giving and _that_ was something he could work with.

He glanced back down to the scroll, absently finishing the tea he’d completely forgotten about while absorbed in the message – by now it was cold and entirely unpleasant, but it wasn’t like he’d enjoyed the taste in the first place – and tried to think of his next move.

Apparently, Gaara was more open to continued communication than he’d expected; the long delay might have suggested otherwise, but given the Kazekage’s extreme honesty and undeniable awkwardness with any form of social interaction, he felt confident in this conclusion. Gaara wouldn’t leave that door open unless he was willing to keep his word.

He wouldn’t write back right away, he decided, he still wasn’t quite sure what he would ask and he didn’t want to let him know just how desperate he was, but he would remember that there was someone out there who he could turn to with the things he simply _couldn’t_ tell his team.

Until then, he would keep rereading the letter, perhaps by the seventh pass, he’d be able to believe that little promise; _what is coming is better than what is gone_.

\---

The stares were annoying. Mostly because he couldn’t be sure _exactly_ how many there were, hidden as they were behind blank, expressionless masks.

Still, he didn’t need to see the eyes on him to know that he was being intensely watched, all he could do was make an effort to not fidget in the hard chair and keep his own eyes on the dark, wooden floorboards, lazily tracing the grain with his gaze.

ANBU headquarters was pretty dead these days anyway; there wasn’t much call for the missions they were specialised in right now, so most of the force had taken to performing regular jounin missions instead. And with the way the world was heading, maybe there wouldn’t even be a need for the organisation at all in the not-so-distant future.

It still had its uses though, most notably keeping track of and assessing former S-ranked criminals who had been inexplicably given a chance to reintegrate into society.

Which was why he was here now, waiting for his parole officer – an elderly man who seemed far more invested in the multitude of toys and trinkets littering his desk, than the mental state of his charge, but at least he didn’t pry too much – to call him into his office, where they would go through whatever new paperwork had somehow manifested in two weeks since their last meeting, perform a few cursory psychological tests and discuss how he was finding his most recent missions.

Sasuke wouldn’t mind the parole meetings so much if they weren’t so _dull_ , but he couldn’t honestly think of any realistic way his situation could be better, so he’d just have to put up with it for now.

At least no one else ever tried to talk to him.

“Ah, hello traitor.”

He took a few seconds to close his eyes and let out a long, controlled breath, before finally deigning to give Sai a fleeting glare.

They – Naruto had been surprisingly intent on making that distinction clear – didn’t drop their forced, fake, plastic smile for a second. Sasuke really didn’t like them, though he couldn’t quite rationalise why, not even to himself; it wasn’t because they’d been his ‘replacement’ on Team Seven, as Kiba had suggested, he wasn’t that petty, it was just an immediate and instinctual feeling he got from them.

But then… he’d felt the exact same thing when he first met Suigetsu, and even Naruto.

“I am surprised to see that you’re allowed to wander without a leash.”

Of course it didn’t help that they knew _exactly_ how to piss him off. Or maybe they didn’t, and it was just an unwitting talent.

He bit back the desire to snap at them, that would help no one, so he only raised an eyebrow, and let his silence speak for him. The ANBU operative’s smile seemed to falter just slightly, before coming back full-force as they took it as an invitation to settle into the seat right next to him.

“Though, I suppose that the only way to really remove your threat would be to keep you completely confined,” they said, finally looking away from him, as they dug through their pouch and brought out a small sketchpad, “which would be a waste and would also make Naruto and Sakura unhappy, so congratulations on your undeserved freedom, traitor!”

The urge to hit them was truly staggering. He turned to glare at a clock instead, counting the seconds until he could escape to his meeting, teeth clenching ever tighter against the inside of his cheek.

Sai didn’t even seem to notice. “They are both inordinately invested in your wellbeing, how do you do it? Are there any special books you’ve read on forming such strong bonds?”

He didn’t respond, just silently begged for his parole officer to just _once_ be early for something.

“Ah, I suppose not-” a faint clatter of pencils being swapped “-still I find it baffling that one can provoke such devotion by doing nothing, maybe it’s something to do with these ‘auras’ I keep reading about? I did try asking Captain Yamato what mine was like, but he just gave me an odd look, perhaps a sensor-nin might know more, I think I will ask Ino next time I see her.”

There was a brief, blessed moment of quiet as the ANBU focused on their art, only the sounds of pencil strokes and soft humming as they considered their work.

He was still slightly on edge, waiting for another barbed comment, or even a surprise attack, but as the minutes dragged on, with nothing more threatening than an accidental – probably – elbow dug into his ribs as they searched their pack for drawing equipment, they stayed quiet and surprisingly placid, unlike most who found themselves stuck in his presence, untrusting eyes and transparent, defensive body language hard to ignore.

But not Sai, they had just settled down right next to him – a little _too_ close if he were honest – and kept any distaste they might feel for him blunt and brief; Naruto had tried to explain that they were still very new to socialising and didn’t think before they spoke, but he hadn’t really believed that until now.

If they could keep their mouth shut, he supposed their company wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

“He’s been different since you came back, they all have, their smiles are somehow… warmer now. Thank y-”

Finally, he could take no more. “What are you doing?” he asked, though his gaze stayed fixed on the clock.

“Drawing.”

Sasuke had to stare at them for a long moment. _Are they doing this on purpose?_ He thought, but the unusual, calm look on their face suggested otherwise, their dark eyes following their strokes with the intent of one looking for fault in their technique; an expression he was very familiar with himself. “No, why are you talking to me?”

They turned away from their drawing – which was far more colourful and abstract than he’d been expecting – and managed to look confused for all of three seconds, before settling back into their predictable smile.

“Because you are Naruto’s friend and I would like to be friends with all of his friends.”

He frowned deeply. Unable to bear the full force of that half-faked, half-sincere expression, he looked away, back to the minute hand of the clock, creeping ever closer to the half-hour mark. “Why?”

Sai hummed before answering, the gentle sounds of their sketching starting up once more before they answered, “Friendship is a pleasant sensation, why wouldn’t I want to feel more of it?”

“You could find better sources than me.”

“True,” they said, grin unmoved by his sharp glower, “but… Naruto sees something in you worthwhile, I would like to discover what, and maybe I can learn from you how to become someone important too.”

Something in their eyes as they said that reminded him an awful lot of his blond friend.

He snorted, glancing away at the movement off to his side just in time to see an elderly man waving him over.

Taking his time to get up, he gave his companion one last look. “You don’t need to worry about that,” he said, annoyed with himself at how soft his voice sounded to his own ears, “you haven’t heard the way he talks about you to me. It’s really fucking annoying.”

With a short wave, he followed the old man along the usual path to his office.

“Making friends?” his parole officer asked, voice more bored than curious.

Sasuke almost wanted to cackle at the suggestion, but limited himself to just shaking his head. He didn’t ‘make’ friends, friends just seemed to _happen_ to him without his knowledge or consent, every time he turned around.

\---

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